


Joe's Name Was Blue

by orphan_account



Series: Short Bandom Drabbles [2]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Colors, Cute, Fluff, M/M, Synesthesia, and based off of my own experiences, based off what patrick's said about him having synesthesia, i wrote this in like 30 minutes, it's my own, joetrick - Freeform, this is in no way representing how most people how synesthesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 10:25:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9119569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Joe’s name was blue, Patrick decided. The blue wasn’t the Crayola-crayon blue, though. It was different. Darker, even. It had a mix of purple in it that darkened the shade. Patrick’s own name was green; an emerald green, to be exact. It complimented Joe’s blue almost perfectly although sometimes Patrick had a hard time “seeing” it.But, of course, it seemed like this was only happening to him. No one else could “see” them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> hi guys!! so i may have sorta wrote this instead of getting a headstart on chapter 9 of Alone In The Night, but shush. I needed to write my way out of this. it's sorta my own experiences with synesthesia (i have a very mild case, I assume, since I don't "see" the colors, I feel them) melded with what Patrick has said in the past. and it's Joetrick cause why the heck not. 
> 
> i hope you enjoy this piece of fluff that i wrote in 30 minutes. (and that you ignore that there was little build up to the romance but shush it's fine)

Joe’s name was blue, Patrick decided. The blue wasn’t the Crayola-crayon blue, though. It was different. Darker, even. It had a mix of purple in it that darkened the shade. Patrick’s own name was green; an emerald green, to be exact. It complimented Joe’s blue almost perfectly although sometimes Patrick had a hard time “seeing” it.

But, of course, it seemed like this was only happening to him. No one else could “see” them.  

Pete was orange. Bright, flashing orange, like warning signs. Every time Patrick heard his name it conjured images of traffic cones and warning tape. It wasn’t bad, per se, just very _out there_. He wasn’t sure how to describe it. It was like saying that 2005 was 7 feet away. (Which was _wrong_ ; 2005 was right behind him, watching. 2012 was farther away than 2005 for some unknown reason.)

Every time Patrick thought about that he got this weird feeling in his stomach like he was struggling to pick out something that wasn’t there. He couldn’t _see_ the colors; they were more of feelings, constantly there but only visible when he focused on them. When he saw his friends and heard them speak out loud, the colors became more prominent.

They weren’t like tendrils of smoke, rising and surrounding whoever he looked at with a close eye. No, it was almost like a halo—a _glow_. A glow so faint that Patrick had to focus to see it. It was nice. He was green, Joe was blue. Joe’s name also felt weirdly _connected_ to his. Like, they were intertwined in an invisible way. Patrick didn’t understand it.

Sometimes, songs had colors too. It wasn’t like he was on LSD—far from it—it was more of a _feeling_. If they played songs live or they were just jamming, there was normally a color hidden underneath the words and music. Patrick could feel it. For example, _Sugar, We’re Goin Down_ was red. Distinctly so. He could just feel it; the song was just red. _Dance, Dance_ was less focused—it was more of a general blue/purple song, like indigo but less specific.

 

Patrick tried to avoid mentioning it to his bandmates but sometimes it just slipped out.

“Guys,” he said without thinking one day, mid-2008, “this song is too orange for the album. The rest of it is more pale grey and blue—this song would throw off it, you know?” They were, of course, discussing their new album, _Folie a Deux_.

“No, Patrick,” Joe replied from across the room, “we have no clue what you’re talking about. What do you mean, “It’s too orange” anyway? Songs don’t have colors.” Patrick sat back down on the couch with a sigh.

“You’re right, sorry. That sounded stupid. Just ignore me.” During these stressful times—though he knew that Joe wouldn’t blow up at him like Pete would—it was best to agree and move on. The song sounded _fine_ with the album. It was just too orange. (And he knew why, too, since Pete had been working on that one with a fever that matched none other, and some of his orange-ness had rubbed off on the song. He didn’t mention that, though.)

“Whatever you say, dude,” Joe said with a laugh. Patrick shot him a weak smile and went back to mixing the tracks with some hopes to make it, somehow, less orange.

 

The next time it happened was post-hiatus, and he and Joe were just discussing album ideas when it slipped out, _again_.

“Joe,” Patrick said suddenly, almost tipping over in his bean bag chair. Joe put down his phone and looked over at Patrick with interest, cocking his eyebrow.

“Yes?”

“Your name is blue.”

“Excuse me?” Joe asked, face contorting to be more confused. Patrick almost just said ‘forget it’ and had them move on, but he wanted to tell _someone._ He trusted Joe enough not to make fun of him.

“Your name,” Patrick repeated slowly, deciding to dive in and explain to Joe what was going on with him and the Godforsaken colors. “Is blue.”

“O-kay,” Joe replied, still obviously confused.

“But, it’s not like the crayon-blue. It’s darker than that and has this cute little purple swirl that mixes in.” Patrick grinned shyly. “Mine is emerald green, you know?”

“Uh… yeah,” Joe said. “That’s kinda cool, though. Is it like a mental thing?” Joe shifted on his bean bag, trying to get a closer look at Patrick. Patrick could almost see the dark-blue glow about him. (He found that he could clearly see it on people that he loved.)

“Synesthesia—that’s what it’s called, according to my Google research.” Patrick played with a string on his sleeve. “It’s not a disorder. It’s just like some of my senses are intertwined. For music and stuff, I can sort of _feel_ the colors, but certain words and names have colors too. Like I said, your name is dark blue. Pete’s is orange. Andy’s is red, like his hair. Yours is the only one that has a swirl in it, though.”

Joe stood up suddenly, hands on his hips. “It’s like when we were making _Folie_ , and you said that _Tiffany Blews_ was “too orange”, right?” Patrick was surprised that Joe remembered that.

“Yeah, that’s exactly it. It was _too_ _orange,_ though, seriously. I liked the song well enough, but it messed with the colors in my head.” Patrick shook his head, a smile on his face. Without warning, Joe sat on the bean bag chair that Patrick was on, smashing the two of them together.

“Can you tell me more about it?” Joe asked eyes wide like a puppy when it wanted something. Patrick let out a laugh.

“You’re interested in it? I thought I was insane when I first started to notice it. If you want me to shut up about it, I won’t be hurt,” Patrick explained. He was sort of insecure about it, despite how cool he thought it was.

Joe rolled his eyes and bopped Patrick’s nose with a smile. “Of course, you dork. I wanna hear all about it. _Please_ ,” he added, jutting out his lower lip. Quickly, Patrick placed a kiss to his forehead before tapping his chin. He smiled fondly at Joe, whose cheeks had turned red but didn’t mention the kiss to his forehead. The blue haze that surrounded Joe had turned a bit more… green. Patrick wasn’t sure why.

“What do you want to know about it?” Patrick asked. He wasn’t sure where to start.

“How do our names… interact?” Joe sounded hopeful, like he was waiting for some life-changing answer.

“Um.” Patrick blushed. “They, uh, compliment each other. Being blue and green. For some reason, they’re, uh, intertwined. It’s invisible, though, so I don’t know why. It’s all kind of confusing. Is that a good explanation?” he asked.

“Perfect,” Joe replied with a smile. “It’s all that I needed to hear. Intertwined… like this?” Without waiting for Patrick to respond, he kissed him, almost melding their bodies together. In his mind, Patrick felt like that was the perfect move; their names… changed, for the first time. Their colors mixed slightly, becoming more like each other.

“Yes,” Patrick mumbled against Joe’s lips. Even though he had his eyes shut, the swirls of colors could be plainly seen like never before. 

 

 

Joe’s name was dark blue with a swirl of purple. Now, though, it had hints—dots, even—of Patrick’s exact shade of emerald green. It was what he was missing, he decided.

 


End file.
